On Three
by crittle247
Summary: Tag for "Deliverance" - "As the two heroes started the final count, Marty was back in that small utility room hands firmly clasp around Kensi's as they started their count...it was interactive television and he did not like it." Please Review ;D


**A/N: This came to me when I watched a movie. And I couldn't help but write a "Deliverence" piece, I mean it was just too perfect to pass up. So enjoy, I hope you like and can you guess what movie I mentioned...it should be a give-a-way :)**

**On Three**

Marty Deeks slowly walked up the stairs to his apartment. It felt as if it was nearing three am and not eleven at night. After a day like today, Marty could use a nice long vacation, but the only time off he was going to get would be from now until nine in the morning. A faint glow of televisions and lamps poked through his neighbor's blinds as he walked past them to his small apartment. Being an undercover cop and now working with NCIS, he rarely spent any time at all at home which was just one more reason why he didn't need to waste the money to have a large place.

Finally in the safety of his apartment, Marty allowed the events of the day to visibly show. He held his right arm closer to his body after unloading his messenger bag near the front door. His movements were stiff and his walk was slower as he made his way to the kitchen. Pulling the Beretta from behind his back, he winched as the hard metal rubbed against a deep and growing bruise on his lower right side of his back. He stopped and looked at his laser trigger; it was now damaged from getting smashed in between cement ground and his body. Deeks grabbed a beer out of the fridge and an ice pack out of the freezer before making his way to the couch. He moved past a small mirror that if he had stopped to look at his reflection he would surely see a faint crease on his forehead as his eyebrows came closer together in acknowledgement of pain. It was the only evidence on his blank expression that showed his brain trying to work thru a cocktail of emotions.

Anger was a definite one. Anger at himself for allowing his partner to be taken as ransom right in front of him and all he could do was stand there like an idiot.

Determination, when they got the video of her just standing in a seemingly empty room. He was going to get her back at any cost if it killed him.

Fear, when he switched off the lights and the room became one big red spider web of lasers with her trapped within it.

Helplessness, as all he could do was watch her shaky form limbo under the deadly beams of light.

Panic, would this last resort of jumping thru the lasers be enough to escape the bomb and live.

Pain, of creaming into cement with another body slamming into him along with the shock wave adding more weight to the fall.

And finally, relief, they were alive and Kensi was safe.

Marty eased himself onto the couch and maneuvered the ice pack to his lower right back. Taking a long swig from his beer he couldn't help but welcome the cold bottle in his hands. He never imaged that a woman could have such a bone crushing grasp. The room was filled with the ringing in his ears until the movie he put in finally came to life. A movie that he subconscious had chosen for him and opened up with a high speed car chase. As he let himself relax with the movie to distract him, he couldn't help but scoff at the movie his brain had chosen. Perhaps a movie wasn't such a good idea; defiantly not this one.

Two LAPD detectives were chasing foreign bad guys. One of the detectives was a well seasoned officer and tended to be on the more serious side while the other cop screamed the opposite. Being the newest addition with shaggy hair, plaid shirts and smart-ass comments; he was defiantly different from his partner. Soon one of the movie's classic scenes filled the screen. The shaggy haired detective finding his partner unable to move off the toilet thanks to a pressure release bomb. With the bomb squad doing all they could the only option left was to jump off the toilet and into the presumed safety of the cast-iron tub. The two partners stuck in a small bathroom debating to cheat death after the count of three or on three made Deeks' heart race.

As the two heroes started the final count, Marty was back in that small utility room hands firmly clasp around Kensi's as they started their count.

"One…"

"Two…"

"THREE!"

The sound of both explosions echoed loudly in his ears. He could feel the deadly heat from the flames on his arms. The impact on his shoulder, his gun impaling itself into the muscles in his back just missing his spine, and the punch to his lungs from the shock as all his breath left him. It was the most interactive television he had ever experienced. A movie that was once one of his favorites was now way too real for him. Marty knew that from that moment on, if he'd ever watched this movie again, the South African bad guys would be Russian. The bomb wouldn't take place in a bathroom under at toilet but in a small room with lasers. He would never see the humor in some of the jokes told but rather he would always see the panic in his partner's eyes. And he wouldn't see toilet come flying out of a window and landing on a car, but instead he would see Kensi and himself leaping out of a door and landing hard on cement, just barely escaping death.

Deeks shaking finished his beer as the movie continued on with its story plot. He stood up with a grunt as his body protested with each movement. He went and got another beer before returning to the couch. Marty knew that tomorrow Kensi would deny showing fear, panic and for a brief moment defeat to him and that she hadn't been covered in sweat from panic, but rather because the room had been hot and stuffy. For now he would be okay with that. He would in return joke and laugh the whole thing off, irritate her with cheesy comments, and never show how much those few minutes had scared Deeks to the bone.

Yet there would be one good thing that would come out of this. Even though it would never be said out loud, their partnership would be a bit more solid from now on. Trust no longer a problem; the doubt of his liaison attachment with NCIS forgotten.

And it all happened on three.


End file.
